


Blood Calls

by Jld71



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Demon Blood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 13:37:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13365840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jld71/pseuds/Jld71
Summary: Sam is tempted





	Blood Calls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cozy_coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_coffee/gifts).



> Written for the prompt by cozy_coffee: any, any/any, Blood Calls to Blood (Shadowhunters)

Sam looked at the puddle on the floor. It was a deep, rich red color. It was fresh and smelled of copper. The sharp smell of it was overwhelming him. He licked his lips, his mouth salivating and he swallowed back a moan.

He felt the need to taste the blood. Fought the desire to drag his fingers through it and lift them, blood soaked to his lips. Let his tongue run over his fingertips.  
Demon blood, his weakness.

It called to him. He felt it. The pull to kneel next to the puddle. To pay homage to it like a God from the days of old.

He heard a whimper and looked around, realized it was coming from him. The only other in the room was the dead demon. The one he'd guttered to cause the puddle to form as it bled out.  
He looked down at his hand. The one holding his beloved demon killing knife. It needed a name he thought to himself and chuckled. Like Excalibur, King Arthur's sword or Joyeuse, Charlemagne's sword. 

He held the blade out in front of himself. It glinted red and gold in the light of the low hanging light bulb attached to a frayed cord overhead.

"One taste," he whispered to the still room his voice shaky.

"No one's here, no one has to know," he said, his voice was firmer now. The resolve growing in his stomach, branching out within him. His blood thrummed in his veins. Hot liquid coursing through him.

"Blood calls to blood." It was a whisper but not from him.

"Blood calls to blood." It was no longer a whisper, the blood was speaking to him, demanding his attention.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to black out the images before him. He heard the clatter of metal against concrete as the knife slipped from his hand, landing on the floor.

"Taste," the blood called and he covered his ears with his hands, trying to stop the sounds from penetrating his mind. Only to hear his own blood thumping in his body.

"Drink," the blood murmured to him. Soothing, like a lover's breath against hot skin.

He scrambled onto his feet, forcing himself across the room, as far from the blood as he could get. But it still called to him. Loving words spoken of desire, need and want.

It would soothe him, sate what hungered within him.

He forced his clenched hands to relax. Wiped them against his thighs, needing any of the blood off his body. He fished out his cell phone. Tore his eyes away from the blood to focus on the call he had to make.

Dean. His lifeline.

He heard the ringing, heard Dean's gruff voice on the other end. "Sam!" Dean's voice rose, panic registering as Sam remained silent.

Finally he spoke. "Need you. Demon blood around me, calling to me."

"I'm on my way. Not too far. It'll be okay, Sammy." Dean said, voice speaking in a low tone. "Hey, remember that time . . ."

He stopped listening as the blood screamed to him. The screaming stopped when it was drowned out by the sounds of movement. He felt hands on his shoulders, shaking him.

"You with me, Sammy?"

He forced himself to look into the terrified eyes of his brother, away from the blood. "Yeah, yeah, I'm with you," Sam breathed out. Starting to feel like he could fight against the call of the blood.


End file.
